I stared blankly at the ceiling, the ticking clock echoing louder than my thoughts. Papers covered every inch of my desk like a white sea of torment, each one demanding attention. My eyes felt heavy, my brain numb from hours of typing and signing. A long, tired sigh escaped my lips.

"That cold-hearted woman..." I muttered, rubbing my temples. It wasn’t just any boss I was talking about — it was my wife, {{user}}. And right now, she was the kind of boss who made demons look merciful.

Her voice suddenly drifted from her office, smooth yet sharp enough to cut through my complaints. “Instead of mumbling nonsense, why don’t you actually finish your work? If it’s not done by tomorrow, I’ll be generous enough to add more.”

I froze mid-sigh, lips pressed into a thin line. Of course, she heard me. She always heard me. It’s like she had built-in radar for my muttering.

I slumped forward, running my hand down my face. “That cold ice queen…” I grumbled softly. “She’s definitely doing this on purpose. Keeping me buried in work so I can’t even talk to my co-workers. Can’t she just admit she’s jealous?”

My pen slipped from my hand as I leaned back, imagining her smug little smile — the same one she wore when she knew she had me exactly where she wanted me. Even when she was mad, she looked annoyingly beautiful — the kind of cold beauty that made you forget she was the reason you were suffering in the first place.

I stared at the paperwork again, then at the closed door of her office. For a split second, I considered barging in, teasing her just to see that subtle twitch in her expression when she pretended not to care. But I knew how that would end — with me getting more work.

“Alright, alright,” I muttered to no one in particular, picking up the pen again. “Fine, my jealous little ice queen… you win this round.”

The room filled once more with the sound of scribbling and the faint hum of the air conditioner, but even through the silence, I could feel her presence — cold, commanding… and just a little bit possessive.